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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743177">Recidivism</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bushwah/pseuds/Bushwah'>Bushwah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fake AH Crew (Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, BDSM, Body Modification, Boss/Employee Relationship, Comeplay, Consent Issues, Cunnilingus, D/s, Domestic Violence, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Femdom, Gaslighting, Guilt, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inappropriate Erections, Kink Shaming, Major Original Character(s), Manhandling, Masturbation, Mind Games, No Safeword, OC/Canon Shipping, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Orgasm Control, POV Original Character, Painplay, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Predator/Prey, Restraining Orders, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sexual Harassment, Unreliable Narrator, Victim Blaming, Voyeurism, Workplace Relationship, abusive sex denial, ex/voy, fear kink, financial abuse, jack-off instructions, model citizen au, original character/canon character relationship, scrotum play, small penis humiliation, tease and denial, touch starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:08:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bushwah/pseuds/Bushwah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindsay Jones keeps her nails sharp.</p><p>To someone who finds out from an accidental, or an "accidental" catch on their clothes or their hair or their skin, she apologizes casually, and the apology is always accepted. Who would sharpen their nails on purpose? Of course, it's just that they're getting long, or that they happened to be trimmed to that shape, or that it was done for aesthetics.</p><p>But to one man, she gives a different answer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lindsay Tuggey Jones/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Model Citizen AU</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Recidivism</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/gifts">Wrespawn</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowOfTheNight/gifts">ShadowOfTheNight</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raylynn_Writes/gifts">Raylynn_Writes</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an FPF fic based exclusively on the Fake AH Crew lore as set forth by Rooster Teeth Productions.</p><p>The Model Citizen AU is by AO3 users Wrespawn, ShadowOfTheNight, and Raylynn_Writes.</p><p>Additional warnings that I couldn't make be tags:</p><p>- One victim becomes complicit in another victim's abuse.<br/>- There's extensive fetishization of resources for domestic violence victims. Love is respect, restraining orders, the power and control wheel... the gang's all here.<br/>- Reference is made to the possibility of having an unwanted child with one's rapist. (The rapist would be the carrying parent.) This does not occur.<br/>- Lindsay is mentioned to be married.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lindsay Jones keeps her nails sharp.</p><p>To someone who finds out from an accidental, or an “accidental” catch on their clothes or their hair or their skin, she apologizes casually, and the apology is always accepted. Who would sharpen their nails on purpose? Of course, it's just that they're getting long, or that they happened to be trimmed to that shape, or that it was done for aesthetics.</p><p>But to one man, she gives a different answer.</p><p>“I do it for you, of course,” she says, skimming the backs of her fingers gently against Nikolas's cock. His hips jerk helplessly, and she <em>tsk</em>s a warning. “The same day you came in my door looking like you didn't know if you'd come to the right place, I went to the stylist right after work, and you know what I said?”</p><p>“No, ma'am.”</p><p>Lindsay ignores him. “I said, 'I know you can smooth nails so they don't catch. I don't want that. Can you do the opposite? Can you give me <em>talons</em>?' And she couldn't, of course,” her hands roam over Nikolas's body, sometimes squeezing, sometimes caressing, sometimes pinching or scratching, and every time he arches toward the touch, “but I kept looking, and eventually, I found someone who could.”</p><p>“Why me?” Nikolas begs.</p><p>She slaps him across the face. “Manners.”</p><p>“Why me, ma'am?” he corrects. “Why would you choose me?”</p><p>Lindsay grins, triumphant, and rubs her thumb over the head of Nikolas's dick, making his whole body shudder. “You looked <em>scared</em>. Barely composed, trying to stay professional. Doesn't matter, we're family here. No, I wanted to see that composure <em>break</em>.”</p>
<hr/><p>“You're bleeding!”</p><p>Nikolas shifts uncomfortably. His head is bowed, his arms splayed to the sides. She's looking at his upper back, where she'd dug in her nails while he was eating her out. He feels exposed, vulnerable. He doesn't like it. He likes it more than he should.</p><p>“I'm fine.”</p><p>She scoffs. “Pity.” Her fingers dig into the welt on his back, and he hisses in pain.</p><p>Why does he let her do this? Why does he spread his arms and <em>let her</em> lay her hands on him? Even as her paralegal, the least physical job he's ever had, he's still physically fit. He could fight. But then, he's not here because she overpowered him.</p><p>“I'm sorry, ma'am.”</p><p>Why does he keep coming back?</p><p>The poster in the breakroom says <em>love is respect</em>, but this isn't love. It's sex, Nikolas tells himself, just sex, but that's not it either. It's the violence itself that has him crawling back to her. There's no explanation—no <em>excuse</em> for that.</p>
<hr/><p>Lindsay gives him less as time goes on. Less attention, less sex, less even of the pain, the domination he craves. Paradoxically, that only intensifies his lust—his <em>need</em> for her.</p><p>He reads and rereads the poster listing out the signs of abuse. Power and control. Humiliation, name-calling, guilt. Mind games. His cock twitches in his pants. He should stop.</p><p>He can't stop.</p><p>Intimidation. Using children.</p><p>
  <em>If you knock me up, I'll sue you for everything you're worth.</em>
</p><p>He'd come in her anyway, and she'd laughed and said she had a husband, “much bigger cock than you”—put-downs, “of course (she was) on birth control”—making light of the...</p><p>Well, that's the thing, isn't it?</p><p>Nikolas works with abuse victims. Not directly, that's Lindsay's job, but he drafts documents for her to sign off on. He's seen, albeit from more of a distance than some of his coworkers, the horror that is domestic violence. Women fleeing from men who beat them, send their children to the hospital, threaten to kill them.</p><p>Nikolas has handled paperwork for a man escaping a woman exactly once. He still remembers the man's name: Tristan Marquez. The story made the news later. He was a retiree. His wife had refused to let him leave their house. He'd offered to take a trip to the library, and while he was there, asked a librarian for help.</p><p>(Nikolas goes to the library every week. He's been on a murder kick. Sometimes it's good to see justice done.)</p><p>Lindsay worked to help Tristan just the same as with her female clients, but Nikolas is no Tristan. Some man who gets hard when she hurts him doesn't need that protection. Or deserve it.</p>
<hr/><p>Lindsay hasn't touched his cock for two whole weeks, and Nikolas is steadily going insane.</p><p>It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't touch him everywhere <em>else</em>. She continued to expect him to get <em>her</em> off, and she spanked him and manhandled him and one time even scraped her nails (so sharp, he doesn't have much experience with women but surely they're not supposed to be that sharp) across the sensitive skin of his scrotum. She grabbed his chin when she wanted him to look her in the eye, and swatted him across the face when he talked back to her.</p><p>All that leaves his cock achingly hard. He's taken to wearing loose clothing to help hide the way his cock fills whenever she raises her voice or speaks impatiently to him, which is often, and he does his best to turn his thoughts to other things, at least until they're alone.</p><p>She's spoken teasingly about bringing him out in public wearing nothing but a collar like a dog, about doing a nude photo shoot of him for an amateur porn site or sharing his body with her friends, but she's never tried to do it. Thankfully. He hopes his resolve would hold and he'd refuse, but he's not sure. His resolve has turned out to be weak on... similar occasions. He adjusts his cock in the tight boxers under his loose navy slacks.</p>
<hr/><p>The woman herself swings by a half hour later. Nikolas has made, and only afterwards caught, two mistakes in the intervening time. He looks up from the words swimming in front of his eyes with relief. “Ms. Jones?” he says, voice carefully formal. Whether she wants him or not, that's always the safest choice.</p><p>She smiles in that way that means she's thought of something. “Give your boss a kiss.”</p><p>He surges up out of the chair in his haste to acquiesce.</p><p>“What is it, ma'am?” he asks diffidently.</p><p>“Can't a woman want some loving without it being a prelude to something else?”</p><p>Nikolas chooses his words carefully. “Of course she can. A woman can do anything she sets her mind to. But with you, ma'am, it usually is.”</p><p>She laughs, and his shoulders slump in relief. “I've decided how you're going to come.”</p><p>Nikolas perks up at that. “Y-you have, ma'am?”</p><p>“Your own hand <em>only</em>, no toys, no porn. I watch. And you do it on <em>this</em>.”</p><p>She holds out the paper in her hand. Nikolas takes it in a trembling hand.</p><p>“This... this is a restraining order.” He recognizes the name. He filled out this application. Alicia, whose ex-boyfriend threatened to break into her house.</p><p>“Mmhm. This goes straight to Alicia when you're done with it. If you're done with it.”</p><p>“If I... come on it, ma'am?” He holds the paper as if it's a live snake.</p><p>“Mm. If you choose not to at this time, I can keep it for you. Or, you can let go of it—let Alicia have it—and who knows when your next chance will be to come?”</p><p>Nikolas closes his eyes. This isn't fair. This isn't <em>right</em>. He should refuse.</p><p>Why is this making him even harder?</p><p>“Oh, and if you'd like to touch yourself, however much or little you want, that's all right. But if you come, it'll be on this.” She smiles sunnily. “So what's it to be?”</p>
<hr/><p>Nikolas takes the deal, of course.</p><p>He tells himself that he's just going to touch himself a little, just to feel it, to remember, but her eyes on him are approving, and he wonders if <em>this</em> is what it would take to finally get back in her good graces—putting on a show for her, with Alicia in the crossfire.</p><p>He takes it one slow stroke at a time, words from the text jumping out at him: assault, harassment, protection. Imagines it's her hand, with its wickedly sharp nails. Her eyes smolder with amusement at his hard cock protruding from his pressed slacks, and he feels the heat in his cheeks reflected in his groin.</p><p>He tells himself then that this was inevitable from the first time she gave him a sly look. His past and his future rolled out before him from that moment. He chose to let it slide, chose to let himself <em>like</em> it. That was his undoing. That will be his undoing.</p><p>But that isn't it either. He's made his choices one by one. There's no inevitability to the progression Nikolas has followed. No sense in which this instance follows from the last. He's here with his boss watching him, jerking off on some poor woman's last bastion of safety, because he <em>wants</em> to be. Because this is what he craves, sick as it is. Because this is what he's chosen.</p><p>His eyes are open as he comes, reading the name over and over: Alicia. Alicia. Alicia.</p><p>“I'm sorry,” he murmurs as the orgasm recedes.</p><p>“You're not,” Lindsay says acerbically. “You wish you were.”</p><p>He wishes he were. But he's not sorry. If he was sorry, he knows, he wouldn't do it again.</p>
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